


The Little Sandbox

by SasuNarufan13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco's POV, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Narcissa's pov, Potters didn't die, Slash, altered timeline, mentioned mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-10 08:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14733068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SasuNarufan13/pseuds/SasuNarufan13
Summary: Narcissa can't help but wonder what suddenly attracts her son to the park.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babyvfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyvfan/gifts).



> Author's note: This is not going to be a long story - two chapters only - but it's dedicated to a dear friend of mine, babyvfan, as a pick me up. I hope this can cheer you up somewhat!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> Dedicated to: babyvfan
> 
> I hope you'll like the first part!

_Part 1_

"Mother, can we go to the park today?"

The unexpected question made her pause in her perusal of the old charms tome she had recently purchased and she raised her head, closing the book carefully. The pages had become brittle with age and would easily tear if she wasn't cautious.

"The park, dragon? You mean the one three blocks down from the manor?" she asked, just to be certain as she gazed at her son.

He had turned eight years old last week, but never before had he expressed a desire to visit the park. He had enough toys to amuse himself with at the manor and aside from going out to fly he had always preferred to stay indoors; his fair skin not dealing well with the sun during the summer months.

He lingered in the doorway, his hands clasped together in front of him as he nodded. "That park, yes. Can we go there?"

"I suppose there's no harm in that," she murmured, watching how his face lit up at her permission. "Did you finish your homework?"

She and Lucius had had a lot of arguments about whether their son should follow lessons with several private tutors or share classes with other children. Her husband was stubborn, but she was more tenacious and she had won the argument, enrolling Draco in the school the next day. There was nothing wrong with private tutors – she herself had benefitted from their lessons – but it never hurt to build a rapport with other families.

"I did. I've finished all my readings and my assignments," he informed her.

"Good," she said approvingly and he flushed lightly, delighted at the praise. "When do you want to go?"

"Now. I want to go now," he replied determined and added hastily, "Please, mother. Can we please go to the park now?"

She looked at his clothes, the black and blue uniform that the school provided for their students – an ensemble not entirely suitable for a visit to the park. Especially if Draco was planning on playing there. "Go change into something else which is more suited for the playground," she said and he was gone so fast she barely had time to blink.

Bemused she returned the book to the shelf and left their library, deciding it would be better if she changed into something else as well. Robes with a length reaching until the floor weren't exactly suitable for walking through a park.

* * *

Oddly Draco insisted on bringing one of his jigsaw puzzles with him. It was one with a hundred and fifty pieces and when completed the drawing – a manticore in this case roaring in the middle of a clearing – would become animated for a few minutes.

Why her son would want to bring a puzzle with him to the park – a place which had a large playground – was a mystery to her. He refused to relent and leave the puzzle behind, though, and she let him carry it with him, not in the mood to get into an argument about a toy. Perhaps he was planning on meeting with a friend in the park and he wanted to put the puzzle together with them? He hadn't mentioned anything of that sort when arriving home, though, and neither the Parkinsons or the Zabinis had contacted the manor to arrange the playdate. There was a possibility that Draco was meeting up with either Gregory or Vincent, but those boys didn't seem the type to like putting jigsaw puzzles together.

"Where do you want to go, Draco?" she asked when they walked through the high arched entrance of the park. The iron gates had been pulled open, allowing people to enter and leave the place whenever they pleased.

Large oak and willow trees lining the sandy pathways provided some much needed shelter from the sweltering sun; the regular Cooling Charms not much of an opponent against the hot weather. Dark green benches could be found every nine feet; most of them were already occupied by tired parents, giggling young witches, or couples nestled against each other despite the heat.

Ice cold drinks and bowls of ice cream came floating out of a small stall, manned by people from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and the Blazing Dragon, the local wizard's pub. This park was only visible to people with magical blood and thus, magic was practiced freely. Heavy Muggle-Repellent wards assured that no Muggle would be able to even catch a glimpse of the park.

A pensive look crossed Draco's face as they made their way along the winding path to the centre of the park where a large playground had been built. There were swings in the colours of the rainbow; large and small slides; monkey bars; a small Quidditch field; a ball pit with balls floating in the air, dancing out of reach occasionally when hands grappled at them; a stretch of sand surrounding a pond; a sandbox of which the sand changed colours every hour … New things appeared once in a while, keeping children engaged when they had grown bored of the regular stuff.

In short, this playground was a heaven for children and at times a hell for parents when they had to pry their children away in order to go home.

She and Lucius had taken Draco to the park only a couple of times before, but her son had never been really interested in tackling any of the toys found here. It was with quite some interest, thus, that she watched her son gaze around, his grey eyes – ones he had inherited from his father - flitting back and forth, taking in the playground. She had applied Sunlight Reflector Cream liberally over every patch of bare skin on both her and him, so she wasn't worried about him getting a sunburn. She'd appreciate it if he picked a place with shade, though. Shade was always better than direct sunlight.

"There!" Draco exclaimed, pointing at a bench near the sandbox. At the moment the sand was a bright orange which clashed quite horribly with the dark green colour scheme of the bench.

"Lead the way, darling," Narcissa smiled and followed her son to the bench in question. It was set partly in the shade of a thick tree, its branches long enough to trail across the ground, and they sat down on that part.

Without further ado Draco plopped down his puzzle between them and removed the lid, revealing the pieces resting scrambled in the box. As he started spreading out the pieces in the box, flipping some of them to their picture side, Narcissa let her attention drift away for a moment, looking around her.

The sandbox was right in front of them, around sixteen feet away. A black haired child was sitting in the middle with his back to her, dressed in a bright red shirt and light brown shorts. Next to him sat a man with his half long black hair tied back into a low ponytail, wearing a blank tank top and Muggle jeans. They were building a castle together, while a slim, brown haired man sat on the child's other side, bent over something in his lap. A book perhaps, though she wouldn't consider the sandbox a good spot for reading.

On the right of the sandbox, a bit further in the distance, were the monkey bars and four children – one girl and three boys – were swinging back and forth, shouting incomprehensibly at each other. Three women were keeping an eye on them from a bench closest to the monkey bars while chattering quietly to each other.

Narcissa caught the sound of water splashing up somewhere behind her; the pond must be on the other side of this particular tree line. The air was filled with the shouting and laughing of children as they clambered all over the contraptions or begged their parents for _one more bowl of ice cream, please!_

Sliding her eyes back to her son, she watched how he shuffled through the pieces, connecting the ones which fit together. A look of concentration was etched onto his face and he seemed utterly oblivious to the other children.

"You don't want to play in the sandbox, Draco?" she asked curiously, having thought that was the reason why he had specifically gone to this bench.

He pursed his lips and shook his head decisively. "No, I want to play with my puzzle," he murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the puzzle in front of him.

"All right," she said slowly, a bit bemused, but leant back, crossing her ankles. It was a nice day; perhaps Draco just wanted a change of scenery.

Nothing wrong with that.

* * *

Lucius was descending the staircase when they arrived home a couple of hours later. He quirked an eyebrow and went to his wife to give her a kiss.

"Back from the park?" he asked mildly. A house elf must have told him. "You were gone for quite some hours."

"It was fun," Draco declared before he scampered upstairs; his jigsaw puzzle pressed against his chest.

At her husband's curious look, Narcissa explained, "He wanted to go to the park. He had done all his assignments and I had the afternoon free, so I figured it wouldn't hurt."

"He went to the park with a puzzle?"

She couldn't blame him for sounding sceptical. She shrugged lightly and touched his right wrist. "Perhaps he just was in need of a change in scenery."

"Well, as long as he doesn't neglect his homework," he murmured and grasped her hand; his own pleasantly cool from having spend the day indoors. "I received a letter from Mathilda Lerouge today."

There was an amused glint deep in his eyes and she narrowed her own in response. "That Pureblood woman who's under the delusion that you're still an eligible bachelor?" she asked coolly, recalling the short and rather plump brunette they had had the unfortune of meeting during a ball organised by the Parkinsons.

Mathilda had spent the entire evening flirting with Lucius, ignoring all the signs – and Lucius' own clear introduction of Narcissa as his lovely wife – that he was married and no longer on the market so to speak. Since that ball two months ago, she had made a couple of other attempts to interact with Lucius and gain his attention.

"Hm." Grey deepened to silver as Lucius stole another kiss, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her with him upstairs, to his study room. "I figured you'd like to take a look at it. Perhaps even aid me in constructing a reply to her. You have always had a way with words that I simply can't hope to ever acquire, my love."

She pressed her lips together for a moment, railing in the burst of irritation which wanted to be unleashed. How much clearer did they have to be for that daft witch to understand she was barking at the wrong tree?

"Yes, I'd like to read it," she said and was already constructing their answer in her mind as they continued their way to the study room.

She'd make it clear once and for all that Mathilda Lerouge was best off keeping her greedy paws from _her husband_. Things might otherwise grow very ugly for the other woman.

* * *

She had honestly expected the trip to the park to be restricted to that one afternoon only. Draco hadn't been very interested in the park itself or the children playing there, but had occupied himself with his puzzle until he had decided it was time to go home.

Therefore she was quite surprised when Draco knocked on the doorframe of her bedroom the next day. She turned away from the window where she had been looking at some house elves puttering around, tending to the roses, and waved the young boy inside. "Yes, Draco?"

He had already changed out of his school uniform, she noticed idly, him having returned home an hour ago.

"Can we go to the park again?" he asked, scuffing his foot against the floor. At her raised eyebrow he stopped, his cheeks flushing slightly. He kept looking at her, though, not deterred by her chiding look. "I finished my homework," he added hopefully.

"Dinner's in two hours," she reminded him. Lucius was still at the Ministry, conducting some business, but he should be home on time.

"I know," he hastened to say and bit down on his lower lip briefly. "Just – just an hour. Please, mother?"

She gazed at him, at the way he stood there with a hopeful look on his face, his eyes wide and pleading. She released an inaudible sigh; how could she say no to that sweet face?

"All right, we can go to the park for an hour," she gave in and smiled when Draco's face brightened, a wide grin unfurling across his face as he clapped his hands and scampered off to his room to grab whatever he needed there.

One hour at the park wouldn't hurt – even if she thought it strange that Draco desired to go to the park a second time.

This time Draco had his book about dragons – one which Abraxas had gifted him a year ago and which had quickly become his favourite book to read – with him when they visited the park for the second time.

He chose a bench near the swings this time, plopping down there without deigning the young woman sitting there worthy of a glance.

For the second time he didn't interact with any children or played on the swings. Instead he sat there and read his book with his bright blond hair glinting like gold in the sunlight.

Narcissa sat next to him bemused, but didn't remark on her son's strange behaviour. Perhaps he was just feeling restless lately and needed to go somewhere else that wasn't the manor or the gardens?

Honestly, Draco's reasoning could be as puzzling as his father's at times.

* * *

Draco wanted to go to the park the next day again. During the weekend that followed he made no mention of wanting to visit the place again and Narcissa assumed he had got out of his system whatever had driven him to the park in the first place.

She was wrong.

Come Monday when Draco returned from his lessons, he requested to go to the park once more. The day after that as well and the day after that. And the days following, with the weekend being the exception.

As perplexing as Draco's behaviour was, Narcissa couldn't find a reason to refuse the visit to the park. Her son was well behaved during their visits, he kept up with his assignments and finished them before requesting to leave and he didn't try any shenanigans whilst there. On the other hand he also never made an attempt to play with the other children there and ignored the ones brave enough to approach him. He just chose a bench to sit – often a different one than before, though sometimes they sat on the same bench as the day before – and occupied himself with whatever he took with him from his bedroom.

His behaviour puzzled her, but he never gave an explanation as to why he so badly wanted to go to the park. "Because it's nice there, mother." was his explanation every time.

Days bled into weeks and at this point Narcissa had been at the park long enough to recognise the ones who also visited the place regularly. There were the blonde twin girls, who'd probably turn their mother prematurely grey with the many antics they pulled at the monkey bars and the swings. The grandparents with their two grandsons and one granddaughter who mostly remained around the swings and occasionally made their way to the ball pit.

The family of four – one boy and one girl – who spent their time splashing around in the water and trying to discover whether Merpeople were really living there. A single mother with her toddler, who mostly spent their time sitting on the stretch of sand in front of the pond, building primitive looking castles. A dark brown haired boy, looking a bit older than Draco, who accompanied his younger sister to the park for an hour every day, playing wherever the girl wanted.

A dark haired boy she had spotted the first time they were here, who looked to be around the same age as her son. She never got a good look at his face, but he was usually either accompanied by the two men she had seen the first time or by a dark haired man and a red haired woman. Sometimes the two dark haired men took the boy to the park, other times it was the brown haired man and the woman, or the brown haired man and the second black haired one. Who took the boy to the park changed from day to day with no discernible reason behind it, but without fail the boy would be there every day for several hours, playing with whatever attracted his attention that day.

Some adults had come to recognise her by now and would wave and smile at her, sometimes even sit down to chat, praising her son for being so well behaved. Narcissa definitely couldn't claim Draco was acting like a brat, but his reasoning for visiting the park every day continued to mystify her. It didn't look like she would get a real reason any time soon, though.

* * *

"Draco, can you please tell me why - " she sighed and cut herself off when Draco just stormed upstairs without glancing back. He nearly bowled over one of the house elves who squeaked and disappeared with a pop to a presumably safer place.

Clucking her tongue, she ran her hands through her hair, infusing a bit of magic in it to wrap it together in a loose braid. The sound of a door slamming shut echoed through the manor and she pursed her lips. She'd need to talk to her son about his behaviour just now, but that would have to wait. She'd let him rage out a bit first because she knew from experience Draco wouldn't listen until he had worked through whatever had made him upset.

Lucius appeared in the door opening of the living room and raised an eyebrow. "The park not to his liking?" he asked mildly. "You've barely been gone for half an hour."

"No, apparently it was not to his liking," she murmured and strode towards him, accepting the kiss he bestowed upon her lips. She followed him inside the room and sank down on the couch, accepting the glass of iced lemon tea when a house elf handed it over. "We walked around the entire park once and then he got upset all of a sudden and insisted we went back home. He didn't say a word to me at all."

"Did something happen when you walked around the park?" Lucius asked with a slight frown, settling next to her.

"As far as I'm aware of, no. We walked around, but I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary," she answered and took a sip from her tea, relishing the cold sensation seeping through her chest as she swallowed.

Whatever had made Draco suddenly so upset, it was not something she had noticed and that annoyed her a tad. She was always observant of her surroundings – she should have noticed whatever had upset her son immediately.

"You want me to talk to him?" He looked at her expectantly, playing absentmindedly with the end of her braid. He had always been fascinated by her long, blonde hair; a fact which never failed to amuse her.

She placed her glass on the small, wooden table next to the couch and shook her head, letting him draw her against his chest. "No, let him be for the moment. I'll talk to him when he has calmed down."

"If you say so, dear," he murmured and kissed the top of her head.

She snaked her fingers between his, resting their hands on her stomach and relaxed in his embrace. She would find out what had upset Draco later on; for now she was content to just sit with her husband and listen to him talk about his meeting with Severus.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Here I am with the second and last part! I'm overwhelmed by the response this story has got so far! I hadn't expected this story to get 120 kudos already :O
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments!
> 
> Warnings: two pov's; time skip at the end; fluff; established slash; mentioned MPreg
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this last part!

_Part 2_

No matter how much she cajoled him, Draco refused to tell her what had made him so upset during their short trip through the park. It frustrated her, because how was she supposed to fix whatever had made him unhappy if she didn't know the cause in the first place?

Draco, however, remained tight lipped about it and in the week that followed he didn't request to go to the park again. As sudden as his interest in the park had sprung up, as sudden did it disappear again it seemed. Whatever had made him upset, it appeared to be the catalyst and he didn't speak of the park again. Instead after he had finished his homework, he would play in his room until it was time for dinner. He was no longer upset, but there was still something he was brooding on. He still refused to talk about whatever was bothering him, though.

He was as stubborn as his father at times and it made her wonder more than once why her son had to inherit that particular brand of stubbornness. She supposed that the tenacity of the Blacks wasn't really any better, but still …

When they entered the second week of July, she was in the library browsing through charm books to find a stronger charm to protect the flowers from the intense heat. There was only so much the elves could accomplish with their magic after all and she was certain she had received a book from her Aunt Lucretia which contained stronger protection charms.

"Mother?"

Draco's meek voice had her halting her search and turning to face him completely. "Yes, Draco?" she asked curiously, wondering whether he needed her help with an assignment. Draco barely needed his parents' help with his homework, but occasionally a question proved to confuse him or he wasn't certain whether he had understood the task correctly.

"Can we go to the park?" he asked, voice smaller than usual as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I finished my homework."

Tilting her head to the right, she studied him quietly. "You're not going to grow upset if we go there?" she inquired after a pause and the boy flushed with embarrassment.

"I'm not," he muttered, a bit petulantly, glancing away.

"If you promise me you'll tell me immediately if something upsets you, then we can go," she acquiesced. She had given up on getting him to talk about whatever was bothering him. He would talk to her when he was ready – he had never been able to keep things a secret from her for that long.

"I promise!" he said hastily; his eyes widening with hope.

She inclined her head. "Then we can go."

His face brightened and he rushed over to her to give her a quick hug around her waist. "Thank you, mother!" he chirped and hurried out of the library; his footsteps echoing through the corridor as he sped towards his bedroom.

Shaking her head, she made her way downstairs at a more sedate pace. Her son's obsession with the park started anew, it seemed.

It was time she really started digging deeper to discover what exactly attracted her son to that place after years of not being interested in it.

* * *

She had made the mistake of considering her son too occupied with whatever item he had brought with him to pay any attention to his surroundings. She herself had made the mistake of being too interested in her surroundings, not paying any heed to what her son was doing.

That particular realisation dawned upon her when they visited the park for the third time that week.

After having decided it was time that she discovered what exactly enticed her son to go to the park every day, she had started with considering the contraptions at this place. It was a bit inane to consider those, she admitted, as Draco clearly displayed no interest in playing on those. Yet something had him moving from bench to bench: then they sat near the monkey bars, then in front of the swings, next to the ball pit …

There had to be a reason behind her son's decision of a particular bench that day. She knew from the previous times that there was no particular pattern Draco was upholding when picking out a bench. He wasn't rotating them in a certain pattern, but seemingly chose one at random each afternoon. It had appeared random at first to her, at least, but she quickly came to realise that her son's chosen bench of the day wasn't so random at all.

She still couldn't see the reasoning behind it, though, so she turned to her son himself, hoping his face would give something away, some clue as to why he chose to sit there in particular.

It did.

And she could smack herself for having been so oblivious before.

It wasn't _something_ that attracted her son to the park, but a _someone_. Draco wasn't all that invested in whatever item he brought with him as he had looked like at first. When she studied him surreptitiously over the days that followed, she took notice of the way his eyes flickered upwards every ten seconds, always looking in the same direction before looking back down at his book or puzzle. He didn't look around in distraction or in idleness – no, his gaze had a specific target.

That specific target was none other than the dark haired boy she had spotted every time they visited the park.

* * *

Draco looked up in surprise when Narcissa entered his bedroom on Friday evening. He had just prepared himself for bedtime and was climbing into his bed, tugging the summer blanket over his legs.

"Mother," he smiled, though confusion lingered in the depths of his grey eyes.

She returned his smile and sat down on his bed, turning towards him as she placed her hands in her lap. Not beating around the bush, she questioned lightly, "So who's that dark haired boy you keep looking at when we're at the park, sweetheart?"

Instantly his eyes grew wide and he looked caught before he huffed and crossed his arms, looking away. "I'm not looking at anyone," he insisted stubbornly, but his cheeks were colouring a faint pink.

She grabbed his chin gently and pulled his face towards her. "My dragon, I'm not stupid," she said mildly and he lowered his eyes to his lap, looking a bit chastised. "I notice you keep looking at that boy every time we're there. Do you know him?"

Pouting, he sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He might try to evade her questions for a while, but he also knew when to give up. "He's Harry Potter," he said quietly, fiddling with his fingers. "He's – he's in my group."

She lowered her hand to her lap and exhaled slowly, not letting her surprise show. She had never got quite the good look at his face, but she knew how Harry Potter looked like from the many pictures which appeared in the newspaper every year around the boy's birthday and on Halloween, the night he had vanquished the Dark Lord. Everyone knew about the Potter boy, how when he was still just a baby, barely one year old, had managed to make the most evil wizard since Grindelwald disappear overnight.

The Dark Lord had gone to the Potters' home on that faithful Halloween night to get rid off them all for reasons nobody knew. His plan had turned against him, however, and instead of him doing the killing, he had been murdered, disappearing into nothing. Nobody – except for the Potters and most likely that old coot Dumbledore – knew exactly what had occurred during that particular night. The Potters remained tight lipped about it, refusing to talk about what had happened and how their son had managed to vanquish the dark wizard. They had become celebrities overnight and the only evidence they had ever been attacked was in the form of their destroyed house and a scar in the shape of lighting bolt on their son's forehead.

After the attack they had moved away, keeping their new address a secret, and so far no reporter had managed to discover their new home. The pictures which surfaced every year of Harry were usually taken in Diagon Alley when he was there with his parents to celebrate his birthday for a few hours.

She had never expected Harry Potter to be in her son's class. Or to live close by.

"I didn't know he followed lessons with you," she said calmly.

He shrugged half-heartedly. "We're not supposed to talk about it. Nobody can know because then the newspapers would be there every day," he explained, still not completely looking her straight in her eyes.

"That's understandable," she murmured. She wouldn't like being hounded by the media day after day either. "Have you talked with him?"

"I – I tried, but I – I messed up, mother," he admitted in a small voice, looking quite upset.

"What did you do, Draco?" Her son could come across quite forcefully at times; it was something she and Lucius were still working on to prevent him from offending the wrong person.

"I just – we were talking and he was nice and he was smiling and then he mentioned meeting one of the Weasleys and I told him he shouldn't talk to them, because they're not as good as some other families like ours. He got angry at me and now he doesn't want to talk to me anymore," he answered, everything coming out in a rush and at the end he sniffled, rubbing over his eyes, which were wet with the sheen of tears.

"Oh, Draco," she sighed, shaking her head lightly, and her son flinched, his lower lip trembling.

This was why she didn't like it when Lucius talked about other families when Draco was around. Children were impressionable; Draco certainly was, hard as he tried to impress his father. Of course he would pick up how his father sneered when the Weasley family was mentioned and would imitate that distaste even when he didn't know why Lucius disliked that family.

To be honest she was a bit fuzzy on the details of the centuries old feud as well. Sometimes she wondered whether Lucius himself knew why exactly his ancestors had started the fight.

"That was not smart of you to say, sweetheart," she admonished him gently. She would have scolded him more firmly if he wasn't already looking like he would burst out in tears any second now. Whatever had made him utter that remark before, he clearly regretted it now.

"I didn't mean to make him angry," Draco said miserably, fidgeting so much with his blanket, it looked like he was strangling the poor cloth.

"I know, Draco. Did you apologise?"

"I want to, but he doesn't want to listen to me, mother," he replied and if possible, he sounded even sadder, bringing his hand up to rub over his eyes. "He always looks away when I want to talk to him."

"Is that why you want to go to the park? Because he's there too?"

The boy shrugged, looking down at his blanket. "I like him, he's got pretty eyes," he admitted shyly. "They look like those green stones you wear at parties, mother."

_What is it with Malfoys and comparing eyes to gemstones?_ , she thought amused, recalling how Lucius often compared her eyes to sapphires. Like father, like son it seemed.

"How did you know he goes to the park every day, Draco?" she asked curiously, figuring she could continue the questions now that it seemed like her son was willing to talk about his classmate.

He blushed faintly. "I heard him talking about it to one of the girls in our group," he muttered.

And because he wasn't able to talk to the boy, he decided to watch him from a distance. She wasn't entirely sure what to think of that and if she had to be honest she didn't want to spend day in day out at the park either all because Draco didn't dare to approach Harry anymore. That would have to change.

"What made you upset that time? You didn't want to go to the park for a week," she remarked, determined to get everything in the open now. She wanted to help her son, but if he had had another fight with the Potter boy, it would become more difficult to reconcile them.

Draco scowled, clenching the blanket in his hands. "Harry was sick," he mumbled. "He wasn't in class for the whole week!"

Narcissa released an inaudible sigh of relief. Well, she could work with that. If the boys had only had one argument, then making amends shouldn't be too difficult. She had accomplished harder things than that.

"Do you want to be his friend, Draco?" she inquired calmly, caressing his blond hair back.

His eyes widened, catching the setting sunlight and making them gleam like silver. "I want to be his best friend, mother! But he doesn't want to talk to me," he added crestfallen, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"How about this: tomorrow we will go up to Harry and you're going to apologise properly for what you said to him about the Weasleys," she suggested, gently unfurling his fists out of the blanket.

"But they're not better than us," he argued, frowning heavily.

She raised an eyebrow. "None of that talk, Draco. Who Harry likes is up to him, you understand? If you want to be his friend, you're going to have to say sorry and _mean it_."

He gazed at her, a storm brewing in his eyes, as he considered her words and he pouted, but nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll apologise," he said softly. "But what if he doesn't want to listen to me?"

"He'll listen," she reassured him. "You'll see." She bent down and brushed a kiss against his forehead, pushing him gently down until he was lying flat. "And after you've become friends, you'll just have to show him you're a better friend than anyone else, hm?"

She smiled when he lit up, a big smile splitting his face apart as he snuggled deeper underneath the blanket, curling his fingers around the edge of it. "I'll show him!" he swore, determination flashing up in his eyes.

"I know you will, love," she murmured and rose up, walking to the door and flicking her wand at the curtains to draw them shut. "Good night, dragon."

"Good night, mother."

She closed the door gently behind her, but not before having conjured a small, softly glowing ball in the room, so that Draco wouldn't have to go to sleep in complete darkness. He wasn't quite ready yet to say goodbye to that small light.

Straightening her back, she set way to the bedroom she shared with her husband. A conversation with regards to his commentary about certain families was in order.

* * *

This time Harry was at the park with the black haired man and the red haired woman – his parents. It should have been obvious earlier who they were exactly, Narcissa mused dismayed as she made her way to them with her son in tow. She hadn't encountered that particular shade of red on any other witch so far.

Nor did anyone else, aside from her son, share that particular deep shade of green which greeted her curiously when she halted in front of them. They were at the sandbox; the sand this time being a light shade of red.

"Can I help you?" Lily Potter asked curiously; her gaze flickering briefly towards Draco, who was hovering shyly behind Narcissa as she stood up. She was wearing a large hat against the piercing sun and she adjusted it absentmindedly; her long, red hair fluttering in the light breeze.

At the sound of her voice, her husband looked up from the castle he was building with his son. His glasses glinted in the sunlight as he studied Narcissa carefully. "Mrs. Malfoy, right?" James Potter questioned, rising up from his spot. He brushed some sand off his legs before offering his hand. "Good afternoon."

He must have recognised her from a Ministry ball. She inclined her head and accepted his hand before shaking that of his wife. "Good afternoon, Mister and Mrs. Potter," she smiled, placing her hand on Draco's shoulder and pushing him forwards softly. "I'm sorry to interrupt your afternoon, but I'm here on the behalf of my son, Draco, who wants to say something to your son."

"Harry," Lily remarked, brushing her hand over her son's unruly dark hair.

Harry looked up, curiosity flitting across his face before his eyes landed on Draco and wariness instantly filled those green eyes. Slowly, looking almost reluctant to do it, he stood up, but remained standing between his parents. "What do you want, Draco?" he questioned, a hint of suspicion colouring his voice.

Next to her, Narcissa felt Draco tensing up and at the same time vibrating with nerves. Still, despite how nervous he must be right now, he took a couple of steps closer to Harry and clasped his hands behind his back. After taking a deep breath, he blurted out, "I'm sorry that I was being mean about the Weasleys! I shouldn't have said those things and I'm sorry for making you angry!"

Harry pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes slightly. "You were really mean," he remarked and Draco flinched, his eyes cast down to the ground as his cheeks coloured a faint red. "The Weasleys are really nice, you know."

Draco didn't say anything and Narcissa held back a sigh. Well, perhaps it was better if he didn't say anything to that particular comment; he might be genuinely sorry about upsetting Harry, but he wasn't sorry about the things he had said about the Weasleys, she knew that. It didn't matter what he thought of them, though, as long as he learnt to hold his tongue around Harry.

It wasn't as if she genuinely liked everyone she and Lucius interacted with after all. The trick was to make it seem like you did; that made it much easier to get things done from other people.

"Why were you so mean to them?" Harry demanded, his eyes sparking and deepening in colour.

"Because I – because I want to be your friend and you seem to like them more," Draco answered petulantly, flushing even harder at that admission.

Narcissa thought she could hear Lily softly cooing and when she glanced at her, the other woman had clasped her hands together and was smiling faintly while James was a mixture of wary amusement.

Harry cocked his head to the right. "You want to be my friend?" he asked stumped.

Draco nodded rapidly. "I really, really want to be your friend," he replied earnestly, looking up shyly at the other boy. "I'm sorry I made you upset."

"I can like more than one person, you know," Harry huffed, placing his hands on his hips. "If you promise not to be mean to others anymore, then we can be friends," he declared suddenly.

Draco looked taken aback for a moment before his face brightened. "Really?" he asked awed, taking another step closer.

Harry nodded and smiled. "Yeah, really. But you have to promise not to be mean anymore, okay?" he added and Narcissa had to stifle her amusement at how stern he sounded.

"But what if someone is being mean to you?" Draco questioned pensively. "Can I be mean to them then?"

Green eyes blinked and a contemplative look flashed across the boy's face. "Well, I suppose that's okay then," he said slowly, nodding. "Uncle Sirius says you have to fight fire with fire and if someone's mean, you have to get back at them! So I guess it's okay if you say mean things to other mean people."

"James, what on earth is your friend teaching my son?" Lily hissed, looking thoroughly annoyed.

Smiling sheepishly, James rubbed the back of his neck. "Life lessons?" he offered weakly and Lily closed her eyes for a moment, looking like she was calling the gods to give her the strength to deal with this.

Narcissa could sympathise with her – Merlin knew Lucius could drive her up the wall sometimes with some of the stupid decisions he was wont to make at times. Perhaps it was something all men were afflicted with and the women were left to suffer in the wake of that.

"So we can be friends?" Draco asked uncertainly, hopefully, looking like he would shatter apart if Harry gave so much as an inkling of a negative reaction.

"Yes, Draco, we can be friends," Harry grinned and waved him closer. "You want to build a castle with me?"

Wide, grey eyes looked up at Narcissa with hope practically spilling out of them. "Can I, mother?"

"Yes, you can," she smiled, looking up at the couple in front of her. "I'm just going to talk to Harry's parents. Have fun, sweetheart."

If Draco was to become best friends with Harry, it only made sense if she got better acquainted with the Potters. They were going to interact a lot starting from now on after all.

In fact, why not start with offering them a place to celebrate Harry's upcoming birthday in peace, without the meddling of the media? No doubt they would definitely appreciate that after years of being hounded by the press.

With a secret smile, she followed James and Lily to the nearest bench.

Leaving her son behind in the sandbox together with his new friend.

* * *

_Sixteen years later_

"Merlin, it's been a long time since I was last here," Harry laughed delighted as they walked through the gates and onto the long, winding path, which after years of not having tread upon it was still very familiar to both men.

Draco smirked, curling his arm around Harry's waist. "I figured this would be a good place to take Teddy out for the afternoon."

The four year old boy in question – adopted by Lupin and Black four years ago after Black had stumbled upon the abandoned baby during one of his Auror cases – was swivelling his head back and forth, taking in the sight of the park with a vivid curiosity. At the moment he was sporting black hair and light grey eyes; they had discovered quite early on that he was a Metamorphmagus – a fact which might or might not have attributed to his biological parents abandoning him. Morgana knew how the minds of those wretched people had been working when they had discarded their own child like a broken toy.

"It's nice to be back here," Harry smiled, swinging the hand that was holding on to Teddy's back and forth gently.

"Why don't we go to the sandbox? For old time's sake," Draco suggested with a wink.

His lover of five years snorted. "Why not? Maybe Teddy will match his hair with that of the sand," he commented amused and they made their way to the sandbox in question, ignoring the furtive glances they got from other families.

Harry was still as famous as ever. His fame might have abated somewhat if Voldemort hadn't returned when they had been barely fourteen years old. Draco could still vividly recall the terror he had felt when Harry had crumpled down in front of the maze, Diggory's dead body cradled in one arm and the Cup – the one that had signified his victory as the Champion of the Triwizard Tournament – clutched in his other's.

What followed had been three tense years of constantly being on guard, of looking behind their backs just in case someone was waiting to attack, of seeing their parents get attacked and panicking about their safety, of becoming suspicious of people they had been friends with for years before, wondering whether they had turned traitor or not.

Then, two months before Harry would turn eighteen years old, he had defeated Voldemort for good, a second victory over the dark creature who had terrorised the world for years on end.

Their families had come relatively unscathed out of the war, with no losses, but with an increased fame for the Potters – and in lesser amount for the Malfoys. It was annoying at times, having to deal with people clamouring for Harry's attention, having their dates interrupted because they desperately wanted an autograph and to thank Harry over and over again for saving the Wizarding World. It was a small price to pay for being safe and happy, though.

Draco halted at the border of the sandbox, watching how Harry stepped onto the sand with Teddy following him eagerly. There was no one else in the sandbox today; the park itself was relatively empty. The weather was quite mild and it was still quite early in the afternoon. In all likelihood the park would fill up in a couple of hours, but for now nobody else was around.

Teddy was squatting down with a concentrated look on his face, picking up fistfuls of the bright green sand before letting it stream down from between his fingers. He appeared particularly fascinated with the sand as he kept picking it up and dropping it over and over again. Harry was watching him with a fond smile, his hand slowly rubbing over the gentle swell of his stomach.

Draco swallowed and his hand dipped down to his pocket, wherein a flat, small, square box was stored. An explosion in the Department of Potions and Elixirs five months ago had had Harry unknowingly inhaling the Fertilitates Potion – the brew which allowed men to carry and bear a child. Two months after the explosion incident they had discovered Harry was pregnant; there had not been a single doubt in their minds that they were going to keep the child.

Unexpected as it was, the baby was still theirs, had been conceived out of love and they couldn't imagine getting rid of him or her. Their families had been ecstatic when they had been informed about the baby and Draco was pretty sure his mother was planning an elaborate baby shower with the help of Lily.

As he looked at the dark haired man in front of him, he was once again overwhelmed by the amount of _love_ he felt for him. It filled him to the brim and at times it felt like his body would just explode into teeny tiny pieces, unable to deal with the sheer magnitude of love he harboured for Harry. They had been best friends since they were eight, had become more when they had been nineteen.

And it had all started _right here_. In this little sandbox. Here it had all began for real.

Slipping the box out of his pocket he slowly crossed the distance between him and Harry. The younger man looked up with a curious smile, and his eyes soft with love.

This time the question he asked Harry in the sandbox, in their place, was slightly different, a bit altered, but the nerves that raced through his body were the same – maybe even a tad worse.

Harry's answer, however – his answer, that was still the same as the first time. The same reply he had given when a little blond boy had scraped together his courage and asked the boy with the shining, green eyes – green like the gem emerald – whether he wanted to be his friend.

Different question now, but still the same answer.

_Yes, Draco._

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN2: Ah, the fluff … So weird to write after all the angst and drama I've been writing for other stories LMAO
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this last part! Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!
> 
> I hope to see you all back in my future stories!
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa

**Author's Note:**

> AN2: This was supposed to be a oneshot, but I figured my friend had been waiting long enough already, so I decided to cut it into two parts. The next part will be posted soon!
> 
> Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
> 
> I hope to see you all back in the next part!
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa


End file.
